Is Anyone There?
by eclarefanxxx
Summary: Clare Edwards was truly alone that night. Just a short oneshot.


Is Anyone There?

_**"…and I want to believe you when you tell me that it'll be okay, but I don't."**_

Clare's blue eyes stayed wide open as she stared at her wall, curled up on her side. She desperately wanted to cry it all out, but no tears would come. Tears were stubborn. They came when _they_ felt like it, not when you actually wouldn't mind their presence. Her eyes bore tears very rarely. She did not cry over small things, only when she absolutely had to, and even then it wasn't her choice.

Why did she feel this way? Her heart weighed countless pounds. Her mind was blurry.

She had a boyfriend that she really liked.

She had straight A's.

She was strong.

Well, she thought she was.

"Clare, are you alright?" her mother's voice came from the other side of her locked bedroom door. _How nice_, she thought, _of her to check on me_. She rarely does.

Opening her mouth to respond, suddenly Clare couldn't get the words out of her mouth.

"Clare? Please answer me." Helen grew concerned.

Clare swallowed, feeling a rather dry throat and her face was growing hot. "I'm okay." That was the most she could muster to say. Why bother to say anything else? What else is there to say?

She heard her mom sigh. "If you need anything, you know where to find me." With that, her mom retreated back into her bedroom to go to sleep. Maybe sleep could numb the worry she had for her daughter.

Well, Clare had been rather numb for a while now, and it had been the worst feeling. Now that Jake, her stepbrother and boyfriend, was involved with weed once again and ignoring her wants and needs, she felt even worse. Her father, Randall, was busy occupying himself somewhere in the condo across town. He did not follow the agreement, which was to alternate staying with Clare with Helen, because Jake and Glen had moved in.

Her life was in _disarray_.

If only people knew her. What they saw was a pretty Grade 11 girl, who studied harder than anyone else and never got below a B+ on any assignment. They saw an abstinent girl, who wore a purity ring on her finger to remind herself that she _did_ in fact have _something to hold onto. _People did not know, however, that she was not truly happy. There were nights where she'd simply crack.

One small thing happens to her, and she snaps. She _cannot_ handle it.

Her phone lay untouched on her desk, right in front of the vanity mirror in which she hated to see herself. Her ring was still nestled onto her finger, safe and sound, but it would soon be forgotten. Tomorrow would be the night she'd slide the ring off her finger for the first time since she had gotten it. Maybe it would hurt. It was possible that she'd be in pain, but that did not matter anymore. She had to please Jake.

Jake was out getting high at this point, most likely blasting loud music and laughing until he couldn't breathe. He did not like spending quality time with Clare, and since Helen was home, they couldn't do anything anyway.

Her body did not tremble, shake, or falter as she lay sideways, feeling the cold draft blow over her motionless body. Frustration took over her as she realized the tears _would not come_. Why weren't they coming? She needed to feel _something_! She could not lay here alone any more.

Getting up, she paced her room over and over again. Her phone was without a single text or call. Then again, who would? She lost Alli as soon as she saw them kissing by the fire up at the cabin. Eli knows her games by now; he knows how it goes. Clare falls in love, but she does not know the true meaning of it. She feels her heart snap in two at the thought that no one wants to talk to her. It's been months since she's really felt loved.

Reflections began.

Clare thought back to the night where she had been let into Eli's room by none other than herself. She thought of the butterflies that had once danced in her stomach when Eli looked at her from his perch on the messy bed beside her. He bent down halfway, with his arm propping himself up from behind, and her father's watch was in his other hand. She moved her head towards his so their lips could meet, and once they did, and she felt his soft lips on hers, the butterflies danced to a happy beat. When Eli had pulled away, she scooted closer to him, needing to feel his presence. Smiling genuinely for the first time that day, Eli lifted his arm and reached over Clare, bumping her hand and lacing their fingers together. Clare's heart had jumped at that moment, feeling his warm hand in her own. His chin was on her cinnamon curls for a moment, and she smiled to herself. Turning her head, she made eye contact with Eli, and buried her face in his chest while overcome with bliss.

His arms tightened around her waist and squeezed slightly as she broke down in the middle of the hallway. Eyes closed, she gripped his shoulders and cried into one of them. Regaining her breath, she sighed, sniffled, and just rested her head there. She never waned to leave, especially since Eli seemed so content to hold her just like that.

Now, all alone in her room, she wanted someone to hold her like that. It's not like Eli would. They're so distant now that their worlds are in different galaxies. Cheeks hot, forehead burning with no fever, heart thumping loud in her ears, and overly dry eyes that tears had not yet graced, Clare became miserable. Absolutely…_miserable_.

Is anyone there? It felt like she was all alone, even if her family was in the house. Her sister was thousands of miles away in Africa; she barely remembered Darcy.

_Is anyone there? _Her boyfriend was getting high, and she had to cover for him. He probably wouldn't be back until tomorrow night. It's okay, Glen is lenient about that kind of stuff.

**Is anyone there**? The pain was unbearable now. _She wanted to cry so badly._ She couldn't get over Eli Goldsworthy. She just couldn't. Maybe sleeping with Jake would allow some of that to go away. Who cares anymore? It hurts too much to care at this point.

_**IS ANYONE THERE? **_ She wanted to shout this. She wanted to be held by someone. She wanted to go back in time and fall weak, crying on Eli's patient shoulder. He had seemed glad she was finally breaking, and was more than happy to support her through that painful time of her parents divorcing.

No one is there, Clare Edwards. You cannot cry, and there is nowhere to run.

She tells herself this, and her heart packs on another ten or twenty pounds.


End file.
